


First Flush

by lozinja



Series: It's a silly place [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Tea, coffee shop AU, teahouse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3436784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lozinja/pseuds/lozinja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart was quietly proud of his teahouse, the Round Table, thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I can't believe that this fandom doesn't have a coffee shop au yet. Isn't there a law against that kind of thing?

Harry Hart was quietly proud of his teahouse, The Round Table, thank you very much.

 

After his parents had died and left him a decent inheritance, Harry had sunk a sizeable chunk of it into buying a quiet little café- then called Arthur’s- almost on a whim. He’d spent the next few years slowly building a reputation amongst those with discerning taste in tea and cakes, who would come and while away a quiet hour or two in butter soft chesterfields. His regulars engaged in polite, passive aggressive wars over the old wing back in front on the fire on miserable winter days. The teahouse was always fit to bursting with the arrival of first flush darjeeling every April (Harry had some very useful contacts in the more renowned estates that came in quite handy at that time of year).

 

So yes, Harry was proud of his respectable little shop, and he enjoyed the company of his clientele. Everyone who walked through his doors was of a type. Which was why a bloodied chav stumbling through his doors as he was readying to close late one Thursday night definitely grabbed his attention.


	2. Chapter 2

“Can I help you?” Harry came out from around the counter and approached the other man cautiously. Thank God the teahouse was empty. 

The chav, who was leaning up against the nearest chesterfield (oh God, Harry hoped he wasn’t getting blood all over the leather. Blood stains were such a bugger to move) looked up, lifting his chin in acknowledgement. 

“You right if I lay low where for a bit?”

Yes, Harry certainly bloody did mind. But then the other man lurched unsteadily on his feet, sucking in a pained breath through his teeth as his left flank hit the side of the chesterfield.

“For god’s sake, sit down before you fall down.” Harry found himself reaching out to the man to help him around to the front of the lounge and guided him to sit before he could stop himself. 

“Thanks,” the other man grunted as he settled stiffly on the lounge. Harry waved his thanks away. 

“Stay there. I’m going to fetch the medical kit…”

“Eggsy” the other man supplied

“Eggsy. Right. Please stay here.” The look that Harry received from Eggsy was eloquent to say the least. Harry ignored it and went to retrieve the medical kit from behind the counter, then crossed to quickly lock the door of the teahouse. It really wouldn’t do for someone to walk in with a man bleeding all over his lounge.

He returned to the chesterfield and sat down next to Eggsy, his attention taken by the lovely mess that some had made of the poor fellow’s face. His left eye was almost closed and a bruise bloomed high on his cheekbone, an accompanying one on his jaw providing a terrible symmetry. There was a nasty tear in his eyebrow that was providing most of the blood on his face, and his lip had been split into two places.

Harry sat back and raised his eyebrows. “Well someone certainly had their fun with you, didn’t they?” Eggsy huffed at him, wincing as he did so. 

“It’s nuthing. Just an argument that got out of hand, is all.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Even so, that cut on your eyebrow looks rather nasty. I think it may need a stitch or two.”

Eggsy looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. 

“…Or I could try and stick it together with whatever I have in here.”

Eggsy nodded sharply one, then sat silently as Harry cleaned his battered face. After he’d removed the worst of the blood, Harry reached for the antiseptic, and was struck for the first time by how handsome the man sitting across from him was. The blood had obscured the clean lines of his strong jaw, and his one good eye, though regarding Harry warily was the most appealing blue. Harry thought that they’d look quite lovely when the other man smiled.

And that was quite enough of that now. 

“What is this place, anyway?” 

Eggsy’s question mercifully gave Harry something else to think about. “This is The Round Table, my teahouse.” 

Eggsy looked around as much as he could with Harry pressing a steri-strip to his eyebrow. He whistled lowly. “Posh, innit?”

Harry cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“Ain’t nuthing like this round where I’m from. What kind of tea have you got?”

Ah. Safe ground. Harry could talk about tea for hours. And had done, much to the chagrin of many an acquaintance. “All sorts, really. We specialise in black tea blends, but we serve green, white and rooibos, as well as a fair selection of tisanes. My business partner Merlin bakes sweets that we serve with the tea.” 

Eggsy looked at him sceptically. “You don’t got Tetley?”

Harry did well to repress his shudder. 

“No. We do not. We also do not have any teabags. Has anyone ever made you a proper cup of tea before?” The vaguely guilty look Eggsy’s face told Harry all he needed to know. 

“Right.” 

Harry packed up the medical kit and strode towards the counter. “If you insist from hiding from whoever make a mess of your face, I’m going to insist on serving you tea. Proper tea. Made in a teapot. Served in proper china.” 

Eggsy trailed after him, looking at the large canisters of loose leaf that Harry had arranged by form and flavour behind the counter. 

“How do you know which one to pick?” 

Harry was already emptying out hot water from his favourite teapot and set the pre-warmed teapot on the counter in front of Eggsy.

“By asking questions. When you drink tea, how do you take it?”

Eggsy shrugged. “Bit of milk, no sugar. Two teabags through, cos that shit ain’t never strong enough.”

Harry could work with that.

“I’m going to make you one of my blends. It’s Assam and Keemun- nice and malty without being too bitter. It takes milk well too.” Harry explained, measuring tea into the teapot before filling it with hot water. His movements were efficient and practiced, almost second nature to him now. And there was something oddly comforting about brewing tea. It forced you to slow down, and those willing to wait were well rewarded. 

After setting two cups down next to the teapot and ensuring that the brew timer was running, Harry turned his attention to Eggsy. 

“So what happened for your face to end up like that?” 

Eggsy scowled, and the expression made him look significantly younger that he had previously. It really shouldn’t have been so adorable.

“Some wankers down the pub thought I was disrespecting them. Which I wasn’t!” The last sentence was said indignantly after Harry raised an eyebrow. “I tried to talk my way out of it, but they roughed me up anyway.”

“And how did you end up in my teahouse?” 

“Got away from them and just ran. You was the only place round here still open.”

“Lucky me” Harry softened his words with a smile. 

“Oi, fuck off!”

Harry chuckled at the indignant look on Eggsy’s face. Dear lord. When Eggsy had stumbled into his teashop half an hour ago, the last think on Harry’s mind was the possibility of developing an inconvenient crush on him. 

Thankfully, the beep of the brewing timer went off before Harry could descend too far into a premature panic and he busied himself removing the infuser from the teapot. 

As Harry was disposing of the steeped tea leaves, Eggsy’s phone beeped in his pocket. He checked the message and made a face. 

“Sorry, but I’m gunna have to go. Mum and her twat of a boyfriend are going out and I need to get home to mind my little sister.”

Harry couldn’t help the flicker of disappointment at Eggsy’s words. “I understand. Not a problem.”

“I could come back and you could teach me about tea then, yeah?” And was that wishful thing on Harry’s part, or was there a slightly hopeful glint in Eggsy’s eye?

“Of course. But do try and come in during normal trading hours.” Harry moved towards the door so he could unlock it. 

“Thanks for patching me up. Laters, yeah?” Eggsy slapped Harry on the back.

“Er, yes. Laters.” 

And with that, the whirlwind that was Eggsy was gone from The Round Table. 

Harry relocked the door and pressed his forehead against the polished wood, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t completely charmed by the other man. He’d only met him half an hour before hand, after all. His shop had just been a convenient location to hide out, and Eggsy’d probably never give him a second thought after tonight.

And that was a good thing. Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I have a million ficlet ideas for this universe. Bear with me :)


End file.
